


Sensible

by purecamp



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: M/M, this is the only sashea youll ever get from me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 10:20:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12430755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purecamp/pseuds/purecamp
Summary: after falling for shea during the filming of drag race, sasha isn’t sure she’s made a particularly sensible decision, and a little fight ensues.





	Sensible

**Author's Note:**

> A/N - can u believe i’m showing the judges versatility with sashea? actually i dont think it counts bc this is terrible lol anyway enjoy and BYE
> 
> ^^ this is the artificialqueens a/n that i wrote at the time. this was written and posted jun 3rd 2017

Sasha Velour prided herself on her intellectual nature more than anything else. She was artistic, she was smart, she could use her wits to propel herself in directions people never expected her to go. Even the name dripped with intelligence. She knew she would always be the voice of reason; someone who could be trusted to give good advice, make no mistakes, be sensible.

Sensible. Since when had sensibility become taboo? Sasha didn’t remember the exact day, but she remembered an inebriated drag queen leaning heavily against her, loudly cackling that she was far too sensible. That she didn’t take risks. That she was Sasha Velour, Little Miss Perfect, she who can do no wrong.

It shouldn’t have hurt, but it did. Sensibility had never been a flaw, not in Sasha’s eyes. How could you remedy a flaw that you didn’t know was a problem in the first place? It wasn’t like she was going to go out and have unprotected sex with a stranger in a club bathroom to prove to someone – or herself – that she wasn’t sensible. There was nothing wrong with being safe, secure, and sensible, Sasha concluded. Nothing at all.

She hadn’t meant to suddenly do something so insensible. Yet, was it sudden?

It didn’t feel sudden. It felt like a gradual climb into a state of bliss, a cloud-nine euphoria to fall back on when things got tough. Slowly, slowly, her heart betrayed her sensible nature and plunged into something she wasn’t ready for. Or, at least, something that wouldn’t last.

But Sasha was smart. She should’ve known, should’ve seen it coming all along. Perfection doesn’t exist, no matter how many friends Sasha had consoled when they truly believed that it did. Sasha was the advice-giver, the intelligent one.

Her newest piece of advice? Don’t fall in love on TV.

Of course TV is a fantasy, of course it wasn’t real, but something about the word ‘reality’ had Sasha’s mind utterly deluded. This was real, all of these mutual feelings stirring up inside were real. They had to be. Cameras or no cameras, the chemistry would have been there.

And Shea. How could she not fall for Shea? The Chicago-dweller had strutted into the workroom and stayed in Sasha’s mind since the very first day, dolled up in her own unique style. She was beautiful, and every joke made about Shea’s teeth flew right over Sasha’s head. She was too busy hoping the queen would smile again, and make that fluttery feeling come back to Sasha’s stomach.

It felt right. It felt good, it felt warm, it felt natural. Shea was funny and sweet and the two of them got along with undeniable chemistry, so it just seemed sensible. It was normal. Nothing about those feelings felt as though anything could go wrong.

“Sasha! Hey, Sasha!”

The cameras would switch off and that oh-so-familiar voice would call Sasha’s name. It was like clockwork. Sasha smiled, almost coyly, looking away to hide her blush as Shea’s hand curled around her own. There were a million different clichés Sasha could name – jigsaw puzzles, fate, written in the stars, fireworks – she was feeling all of them. They just fit together, and it worked. It worked well.

Weeks of filming passed, with their burgeoning relationship only advancing further and further. Sneaky hand-holding evolved into stolen kisses in the secrecy of the maze-like set, hidden corners became rendezvous for a minute or two of passion. It wasn’t much, but Sasha’s heart beat a little faster every time it happened. She couldn’t believe how easy it was to break the rules and slip away just for a moment, just to taste the cocktail on Shea’s lips and embrace her with record timing. It didn’t feel wrong to be breaking those rules. It felt freeing.

Sasha’s sensibility flew out of the window. Was it intelligent to chase such emotional highs? Probably. Was it going to end well? Foolishly, Sasha had convinced herself that the TV reality was the same as true reality, and everything would be fine.

It couldn’t not be fine with Shea. Shea was something else entirely – a smooth-spoken, warm-hearted ray of light whose smile could light up the whole of America. She was so eager, so excited for what was happening between them. She pulled Sasha’s remaining sensibility away from her and had her wrapped up in this fantasy world of lingering glances and forbidden touches.

Every time Shea grabbed Sasha’s hand to tug her away, it felt like fire was coursing through her veins. This was right. This was normal. It burned in a good way.

Until one day it was ice.

When was the transition? Sasha hadn’t even noticed it. Perhaps her mind had overlooked all the times when Shea grabbing at her had become tiresome. Sometimes she just wanted to drink her cocktail and retire after a thirteen-hour day of filming, with no such luck. Sometimes her body was clammy and stiff from being corseted and stood in heels for so long, and she wanted nothing more than to shower and go to bed. She didn’t want Shea’s hands around her waist, her lips by her ear whispering the sweet nothings she’d loved only weeks ago.

It must have been a quick transition, and yet Sasha hadn’t even noticed it. It was too much.

“Yes! So one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight… oh, woah woah woah.”

Shea.

“Okay, let’s focus.”

Shea again.

“Haha, wait, Trinity!”

Shea.

“Okay okay so, going from the beginning, I come up on three, and then all together we do something on four, right?”

Shea just kept talking.

“-No, what is the first time – okay…”

She even cut Sasha off.

“Are you guys all like, comfortable with…”

It felt… sensible, in the workroom, to bring up how she was feeling. Shea had been stepping on Sasha’s toes, hadn’t been letting her get a word in edgeways as her confidence grew. It was all catching up with Sasha too fast; the very real possibility that what she had with Shea wasn’t so perfect, on top of her nerves about the competition. She didn’t want Shea to keep kissing her as she’d longed her to do weeks ago. She didn’t want Shea’s thorough and fixed input on everything Sasha did or said. Teets and Asky be damned, Sasha had her own brain and her own mind and relied on her smarts more than any of the girls around her. She knew what she was doing. She just didn’t realize what she’d done.

It was Shea’s raised eyebrows that caused the first few tendrils of guilt to wrap around Sasha’s chest. Maybe she should’ve voiced her feelings to Shea privately, but how? The second they were alone, Shea was kissing her with all she had, pressing their bodies close even if just for a moment. It had been nice but then it wasn’t, and Sasha wasn’t going to risk it happening again.

Because she was sensible.

Someone made a quip about ‘Rupaul’s Best Friend Race’, and tense laughter followed it. Sasha wasn’t the eyerolling type, the low-volume, low-voice shade type, but she couldn’t even help herself. Was it really drag queen shade if it was just Sasha indirectly telling Shea to back off?

It wasn’t fair. She knew Shea had fallen for her, the same way Sasha had fallen for Shea. But Sasha, stupid, intelligent, dumb, clever, whatever you wanted to call her, had managed to fall in and back out again. What was more sensible at that point in time? To keep the strange tangled love affair going or to cut it off completely? Sasha… didn’t know. And she hated not knowing.

“Shea, hi. I… I wanted to apologise for earlier.”

Sasha’s heart rate sped up, her hands starting to feel sweaty. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

Shea turned. “Apologise? For what?”

There it was again, that same attitude she’d displayed after Sasha’s initial comment. It was clever, despite her insistence, that Shea was bothered by it all. Sasha had to do her best to save the situation and try not to lose everything they’d built up. Even if she wasn’t sure about a relationship anymore, the friendship had made her feel stronger than she cared to admit.

She breathed deeply. “You know what, Shea. In the workroom.”

“Something happened in the workroom?” Shea feigned innocence. “I didn’t notice.”

Sasha screwed up her face, the guilt burying itself in the pit of her stomach. “Oh, Shea. Please don’t be like this. I’m sorry for what I said, I am.”

Shea turned away, facing the opposite direction from Sasha. Her breaths quickened once her back was turned, one of her hands running through her curls in a distressed manner.

“It wasn’t what you said, it was what you didn’t say.” Each word that fell from her lips stabbed Sasha like a knife. “You could’ve told me. You didn’t have to imply it.”

Sasha bit her lip. “I didn’t know how to. I didn’t – I didn’t even mean for it to come out like that! Shea, I just wanted to-”

“To tell me that I’m too much? That you don’t want this anymore? That I’m stepping on your toes and I’m in your face and you’re sick of having me around? I got that, Sasha! I got it! I don’t need to be told twice.”

“Shea, please! You know that’s not what I mean. I care –” Sasha tried, but was interrupted again.

“-about sashea, about working with me in the challenges because we work well together. Everything else, you couldn’t give a shit about!”

Shea whirled around, her chest heaving as she spat the words out. Unshed tears glistened in her eyes, and her fists were balled.

“Just say it, Sasha. Open up, admit it. When did you realize you no longer wanted to use me?”

Sasha saw red for the second time.

“Use you? I used you?! When?! I would never use you, Shea! I’m not a monster!”

Shea sneered. “Of course not! You’re an intellect. But when did you use me? Every fucking time you joined me, knowing I cared about you and enjoying that with nothing in return. That’s when you used me, Sasha. What do you say to that?”

“Shea-”

“Stop saying my name. I don’t want to hear it from you.”

That was the last thing Shea said to Sasha off camera. From then on, it was just radio silence. It was nothing. She smiled sweetly on screen and ignored her like she wasn’t even there the second those black cameras were gone. And Sasha, well. Sasha was empty. She’d made her decision, she’d made her bed, and now she had to lie in it. She’d dug her grave, and now she had to deal with it.

-

As days went by – the race having finished – Sasha grew more and more confused. She was the smart one! She was the one who could always be trusted to know what she was doing! So why, why couldn’t she figure out all these feelings? She’d tried deconstructing them, pulling them apart to try and put them back together in a logical order. Every time, it just didn’t work.

She’d fallen for Shea, she knew that much. She’d been captivated by her humour, her beauty, her sheer talent, and had fallen hard. Shea had fallen too, and it had led them down that fleeting path of romance and lust and love that had filled Sasha’s mind with dreams of something more. That was the first stage.

There was a saying that Sasha had always liked – when you’re wearing rose-tinted glasses, all the red flags just look like flags. It was one she’d adopted when she was younger and stuck with into adulthood, remembering it in times of need. When had she become disillusioned with the dynamic that she had with Shea? When had she taken off the glasses? Had Shea even caused the red flags? Sasha didn’t want to be cliché and use the term ‘inner-saboteur’, but she had a horrible feeling she’d been the one putting up the flags, ignoring the colour.

So, the second stage. Everything continued as it had been, but Sasha wasn’t into what was happening around her. Being around Shea was still fun, and she still felt strongly for the Chicago queen – still fell asleep with a smile on her lips when thinking about her dark skin – but something had started to feel off. What had previously been nothing but bliss for her had started to deteriorate into something less than perfect. And Sasha, unfairly, had blamed Shea for that.

It wasn’t Shea’s fault, and neither was the third and final stage of it all. Sasha had tried to apologise, and before she even knew what was happening the two of them had spiralled out of control. Shea was upset, Sasha was confused, and it made for one fucked up moment that Sasha’s mind had been replaying ever since it had happened.

The race was over. Sasha was home. And she couldn’t stop thinking about Shea fucking Coulee.

One thing was certain, the feeling hadn’t died. Sasha knew she’d fucked up, and knew she hadn’t fallen out of love as she’d thought, but had rather gotten tangled up and lashed out for her freedom. She’d massively ruined something good between her and Shea, but a shred of hope still remained. Maybe Shea didn’t hate her as much as she feared.

The sensible thing to do would be to call Shea, or arrange to meet up, and talk about it. In a way, Sasha made the sensible decision. The only downfall was that the sensible decision occurred at one in the morning, when both Shea and Sasha should have been asleep, but neither were.

“Hello?”

Suddenly Sasha was tongue-tied.

“Hello? Anybody there?”

Nothing.

“Who is this?”

Click. Sasha hung up. Maybe next time she’d have the courage to actually say something to Shea. Maybe next time she’d be more sensible, be smarter, be more Sasha Velour and less plain old Sasha.

Then Shea called back.

It took every ounce of strength in Sasha’s body not to press decline, her hands shaking as she accepted the call. She didn’t want to face apologising again, for her failed apology from before, but she knew she had to. She couldn’t leave them the way it had ended. It had been eating her alive.

“Hello, no-caller-ID.” Shea’s voice floated through the speaker. Sasha held her breath.

“Sasha, I know it’s your number. Of course I know your number. You want to talk, don’t you?”

Sasha’s voice was insanely quiet. “Not here. Not now. But yes.”

“Okay. I’ll call back-”

“Wait.” Sasha rushed out. “Shea. D-Don’t go yet, please.”

Shea sounded confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… I mean it’s 1am. And I’m tired. I’ve barely slept and I can’t stop – can’t stop thinking about you and… I don’t know. This isn’t the most sensible decision I’ve ever made, but I want you to stay on the call with me. Phone battery life be damned.”

There was a long silence, in which the knot in Sasha’s stomach tightened. She’d been too forwards, of course. She’d jumped in too quickly after hurting Shea so badly. Who did she think she was?

Shea started to laugh. “Alright. I see you’re less intellectual when you’re sleepy.”

Sasha giggled. “Shut up. Good night, Shea.”

“Good night, Sasha.”

-

When Sasha woke up, the call was still running. Shea had stayed.

And perhaps it wasn’t the most sensible thing to do, but Sasha couldn’t deny the smile that made its way across her face when she heard Shea’s sleepy voice grumbling a ‘good morning’ down the line. Part of her knew it would be even better hearing that voice when it was actually beside her and not just through her phone. All of her knew she was going to get there someday.


End file.
